Ensnared
by Galatea
Summary: Left alone in Hueco Mundo with just the sinister Ulquiorra for company, Orihime becomes increasingly fascinated by her captor and his missing heart. Ulquiorra obediently protects her, but his darker, ulterior motive starts to emerge from the shadows.
1. Held

**Ensnared**

By Galatea

Disclaimer: While this story was written by me, all the characters and places in this story and from _Bleach_ are of course the property of Tite Kubo.

Comments: I started writing _Ensnared_ because I felt like I was a little put off by the representation of Ulquiorra & Orihime online. I did quite early think to myself, "There's definitely something in this – some kind of chemistry" but I was very unsure that Ulquiorra and Orihime's relationship would be in any way easy.

I think sometimes there's a tendency to envision Ulquiorra as a Mr Darcy of Bleach – full of pride but essentially a good person underneath, but having watched the anime representation of Ulquiorra a few times now (I'm working on getting the manga) I couldn't honestly see him as an anti-hero. There's a violence in the way he speaks which is more than just functional. He is, clearly, a man fascinated by the human condition – making Orihime a figure for intense scrutiny – but moving from a position where he is threatening Orihime frequently with detailed descriptions of violent acts he would need to perform on her to a position where he is dotingly overprotective can really be the undoing of a good fanfic. I've tried not to do that here.

**Held**

"Woman, I'm coming in".

Orihime didn't even realise she had been in such a deep day dream until the hiss of the door behind her brought her back to wakeful thought.

Ulquiorra cut a stern silhouette for a moment as he passed the threshold, the bright light behind him making Orihime remember the stark illumination inside the Kurosaki Family Medical Facility. She thought how strange it was that she had never seen a light bulb or even a lantern or plug socket anywhere in Hueco Mundo.

If something powered Los Noches then it wasn't the National Grid.

He stood, as she had come to realise was his wont, with his hands in the pockets of his white hamaka. Orihime had only ever seen him take them out when he was about to destroy something; and even then only to attack more dangerous enemies. When he'd kidnapped her, mutilating the men who had been entrusted with her guardianship, she hadn't even seen him move, much less power up a cero or release his zanpakutou. Powerful hands indeed.

She could tell without needing to probe into the depths of his hidden reiatsu that he was beyond her own powers of comprehension in strength. Yet for all of that, she found herself before him now having disobeyed his orders as if he didn't have the ability to burn her to ask by just lifting a finger.

She didn't need to look directly at Ulquiorra's inexpressive features to know that he was looking at the tray that still held her mid day meal. It was past 6 now, and the food was long cold. The edges of the salad were starting to yellow a little and curl.

Obtaining salad within Hueco Mundo was impossible. Ulquiorra had had to send Hollow out to human farms in the middle of the night to raid crop fields just to get it. The Hollow had largely ravaged the farms, slaughtering hundreds of cattle and setting crops ablaze. It had been a miscalculation on his part. One of very, very few. He sometimes forgot that he had been one of those rampaging beasts once himself.

Aizen's smirking expression still lingered in his mind's eye as he'd arrived in time to see Ulquiorra return to Los Noches through a Garganta, a lettuce tucked under one arm. It was strange, Ulquiorra thought to himself, how Aizen still delighted in childish humour. One of his less admirable qualities.

"5 a day," he'd been reminded by their supreme ruler, who had barely been able to hold back a chuckle. "Humans will wilt and die without it."

Inoue lifted her right arm and cradled her left elbow with her palm, like a child stood in a head master's office. Finally two huge green irises glared back at her unblinkingly.

Ulquiorra said nothing, but turned towards the door, muttering the word "Open," through gritted teeth.

"I'm sorry," Orihime interjected now, her limbs feeling stiff and incompliant, her stomach starting to churn. "I'm sorry; I should have... that is to say I am not ungrateful to whoever made this... I shall eat my next meal, I just... Sado-kun..."

"Be. Silent. Woman."

Orihime had never seen Ulquiorra exhibit anything comparable with an emotion before. Neither had she ever seen him raise his hand to her, but at this moment he pointed a black tipped index finger right at her chest. Though she knew he wouldn't – couldn't – fire at her, the air around his hand rippled and something like a tiny lightning bolt cracked and popped in the air, then scurried up his sleeve.

"I told you that if you did not eat I would force it down your throat, so you have only brought this on yourself."

"No, please, I..."

"What did you think was going to happen?" he murmured. Ulquiorra never, ever raised his voice. "What did you think would happen if you didn't do exactly what I told you? Your body – your powers – are for the use of Aizen-sama. It is my duty to keep you alive by whatever means I deem it necessary. Apparently you think this is all some kind of little game."

A servant had appeared at the door with a fresh tray. It contained much the same things as the last. The old tray was taken, but instead of leaving with it, the servant returned a moment later with a second on his tail.

"Bind her and leave us, I will deal with the rest."

"Yes, Ulquiorra-sama," they responded in unison like two parts of the same clockwork. Orihime felt the breath start to leave her body and turned to frantically seek an exit. There was none, though. Just the same barred window with the moon shining brightly but carelessly down.

"No no," she started to cry, something Ulquiorra had grown quite accustomed to. The human seemed to leak often from her eyes. He had heard from other Arrancar that the human response was to offer comfort and to feel pity, but he gazed on impassively as the struggling and squealing female was pushed roughly down on to a metal chair, her wrists bound behind her and then fastened down by her waist, and her ankles bound to chair legs. It was a heavy seat. Even for all her mewling and sobbing it would not be possible for her to loose it from where it was bolted to the ground.

"Leave us." The servants acquiesced obediently and Ulquiorra flipped aside his coat tails to seat himself on the settee, skewering a piece of meat on the end of a fork. "Open your mouth," he said. His tone was soft, and seemed like the last warning before a great drop.

She hesitated only momentarily. She tried to form an "N" on her lips, but her captor's emerald eyes narrowed by the slightest of margins and instead, with trembling lips, she opened her mouth. He put the fork inside and rested the meat on her tongue, then said, "Bite."

She did so and he pulled back the implement. Orihime bit into the meat but it tasted very strange. She couldn't tell what it was – was it chicken? Beef? It had an unpleasant slimy quality to it, even as its juice began to flow down the back of her throat. Squid, maybe?

"Again."

Ulquiorra held another piece up to her mouth. Orihime found herself testing her bonds. How long would it take for her to call forth Tsubaki to cut through her ropes? And then how long would it take following that for Ulquiorra to turn Tsubaki to dust and fasten her down with something far more sturdy? Oh God. She felt a shudder wrenching through her muscles.

"Again." Ulquiorra pushed the meat against her lips and she obeyed this time. He pulled back the implement, lifting the knife in his right hand to put off another piece from what was on her plate. "Only children refuse to eat their meals," he said darkly. "Once you have no further purpose here I will no longer need to go to such lengths and you may die as soon as you please."

Orihime swallowed, "Ulquiorra..."

"Ulquiorra-sama," he corrected. "You are not my equal – you are trash."

"What is this I am eating?"

Ulquiorra held out a third piece on a fork. "Hollow meat."

The girl pursed her lips and fought off a sudden urge to be sick. Hollows... the same tentacle beasts that consumed souls and killed humans; that ate each other to become stronger; that made that most fearsome shriek. She thought of her brother, the great screaming beast that had burst through her wall, picked her up and tried to strangle her. If a Hollow was killed with a soul slayer then their souls were cleansed and they went to Soul Society. But what if a Hollow was killed another way? What if their "meat" was then eaten by a human?

Ulquiorra held up a third piece but Orihime flicked her head away violently. "No..." she cried, "No I can't, I won't."

"What were you expecting? Sushi? Okonomiyaki? You are a desperately stupid girl, aren't you?" Whatever moment of calm had fallen had now passed and he gripped her chin, bringing her around to face him as she frantically wrestled with her bondage.

"I won't eat it!" she shouted, tears streaming down her cheeks, "That's somebody's soul!"

"There have been billions upon billions of souls throughout history," Ulquiorra rose to his feet and dug long pale fingers into her beautiful auburn tresses, tightening until her head was still and her wide, terrified grey-blue eyes were staring up at him, "This Hollow may have murdered your ancestors, killed thousands of innocents, and the best he can possibly do for the world is to perish here in Hueco Mundo, making himself useful as something to keep you alive. I have devoured thousands of souls, and when your time of usefulness is at its end..." he lowered his lips down to the shell of her right ear and murmured softly and lustfully, "I will devour your soul as well."

His hand went back to the plate and he picked up the fork again, proffering it to her, "Now eat. I want you to be a good meal."

"I can't," Orihime said weakly, "I can't, I'll be sick."

"You're starting to annoy me," Ulquiorra paced behind her and suddenly she was free. She immediately made to rise but his arm snaked around her waist and with a flick of his wrist he deposited her roughly on the settee, seating himself beside her then cutting off her escape by pulling her on to his knee. "If I must feed you like an infant then I will. When you lie awake this night I hope you will dwell on how tedious it is for others to have to take care of you like you were a defenceless child."

He picked up the fork again, but this time instead of seeking to get her to eat he put the food in his own mouth and chewed. He didn't look at her while he did so, but instead stared into the middle distance as if she was not worth acknowledging. Orihime did wonder what the purpose was in all this, but any such questions were shortly to end as she felt his hand tighten in her hair once more, but this time he applied pressure to the back of her head until her lips made contact with his own.

Wide eyed and terrified, Orihime braced her arms against his chest and pushed back, but as she did so his fingers just tightened more until her scalp was screaming in agony, long locks trapped between unrelenting fingers. She felt his tongue push the meat into her mouth and fought off an oppressive desire to gag. Soft and chewed the meat was easier to swallow and when she finally stopped fighting she felt his grip on her slacken and for a moment, with her lips still pressed against his and her eyes tightly shut - she felt the edge of a great void of emptiness, and reached out her hands to the gradually encroaching shadows.

The moment passed as quickly as it had descended. Ulquiorra moved only when he was confident that she had started chewing for herself, turned his head and took the next piece in his teeth, gnawing its rough texture and waiting for her to swallow before repeating. He did this another three times before the meat was finally gone.

Orihime felt amazed at how functional it all was to him. Ulquiorra showed no sign that he felt the act was in any way sexual. He remained with his mouth on hers just long enough each time to make the exchange. For some reason, Inoue had imagined that his lips would be cold like only a Midwinter could be, but strangely he felt warm to the tough. It was hard for her to get past the idea that this – the supreme form that a Hollow could achieve – was something living. Especially when something just behind those huge glassy green orbs was cold, dead and buried.

He put down the fork with a clatter and rose. Orihime slid to one side on the settee and put her palm to the back to her head to tease her finger through a new tangle. The patch of skin was still stinging.

"Don't make me have to do that again," he said unpleasantly, picking up the cloth napkin and cleaning his hands before dropping it on to the plate and sliding his hands back into his pockets. "It is my purpose here to maintain you, not to pamper you. Aizen-sama has told me to discover how you use your power and I will find out exactly where it comes from and how you use it."

"Y-yes..."

"Yes - what, woman?"

"Ulquiorra... sama."

He didn't seem to take any pleasure in her adding his title. She wondered whether he could take pleasure in anything – whether there was anything resembling humanity left within him. Once upon a time, Ulquiorra had been a soul – he had been a living, breathing man who had died. Whatever circumstances that had led him down this path - to the realisation that the rejection of that human side would preserve him was, surely, proof enough that at one point those emotions had caused him pain.

She longed from deep in her chest to know.

"I'll leave you to finish."

The door hissed open one more time and closed again. There was no lock, nothing was sealed here. Even if she did have the will to leave her cell, Orihime had nowhere to go and wouldn't have dared to go far in case she was accused of trying to escape. It would only take a matter of minutes for the lives of all her friends to be held in the balance again. Even Kurosaki-kun.

Ichigo...

She put her fingers against her trembling lips as she realised that she had lost out on the opportunity to give her first kiss away to her beloved school friend – the unknown object of so many heartfelt sighs and sleepless nights. How she wished now that she had had the bravery to plant her kiss against his mouth as he slept. Now, no matter how much she couldn't bear it, she would never escape the fact that her first real kiss with a boy had been stolen by Ulquiorra Cifer.


	2. Hungry Souls

Author's Note: If it seemed like chapter 2 was a long time coming, then you'll understand a little bit how hard it's been to be without internet and the ability to post it for the last 2 or more months. Fortunately now I have a bright pink dongle and limited net access - so here is part 2 out of I-don't-know-how-many. I found the more I worked on this story the darker it became. I finally - FINALLY - got to see the final episodes where Ulquiorra fights Ichigo and they're reassured me that even to the last he displays very little emotion or remorse. It makes him - in my opinion anyway - one of the single most interesting and impenetrable Bleach characters.

Disclaimer: I think it goes without saying that Bleach - not mine.

Rated M for mature themes, mature language and allusion to sexual acts. Basically it's all there except violence and that'll probably come later.

**Ensnared - Chapter 2**

**Hungry Souls**

"You will be seated beside me. I will explain to you who each of the Espada are once they have arrived. While Aizen-sama is in the room, you will not speak unless you are addressed directly, and you will keep your answers short and to the point. If you start fidgeting or doing any ridiculous arm waving I will escort you back to your chambers and I shall not have Lord Aizen suffer the sight of you again. Is this understood?"

Ulquiorra paused at the door of the meeting chamber before entering, placing his back to the ornately decorated entranceway and locked Orihime's grey-blue gaze with his own. She still hadn't grown accustomed to it. Ulquiorra's eyes were eerie and spoke of death.

"Y-yes..."

The Arrancar eyed her with a critical gaze, tucking hair over one shoulder and straightening her cloak until the black hems were aligned. Then he said, "Walk."

Punctual, they were the first to arrive. Only Tousen had arrived in advance, and stood at the end of the long table, deep in thought. Orihime would not forget how surprised the shinigami had been by Tousen's defection – far more so than Aizen or Ichimaru. From the fragments of conversations she had overheard between Captain Hitsugaya and Matsumoto-san – it sounded like Ichimaru had been a bit of a loose cannon, and Aizen was at best cagey. Tousen though... he seemed to be a mystery. A man with an impeccable sense of justice – or so they all had believed.

He said nothing and shortly after came and seated himself at the table as the other Arrancar filed in – some of them noisily and bickering with each other, like Grimmjow and Nnoitra – others silent and dignified like Halibel and Zommari. Ulquiorra told her their names as they came in – though not their ranking in power. Grimmjow sat so confidently – and yet she knew that he was only number 6. Ulquiorra was, she believed, more powerful than Grimmjow, but she knew not exactly how powerful. Was he the Primevera Arrancar? He sat with a solemn but otherwise impenetrable look on his face. He was aware of her staring though, she could tell. Occasionally his eyes would dart down and left to observe her, then return to looking out somewhere into the middle distance.

She would have asked him what he was thinking about, but somehow she doubted that she would have liked his reply.

Lord Aizen entered the chamber and Ulquiorra rose briefly as a mark of respect before Aizen seated himself. Grimmjow, across the table, remained seated and Orihime was certain she overheard a derisive "Puh" from his lips that caused Ulquiorra's brow to furrow almost imperceptibly.

"My dear Espada," Aizen didn't so much speak, but purr. He was like a great cat, with a sleek mane of soft brown hair, and a natural kind of elegance. As he spoke he leant one elbow on the arm of his chair at the head of table. The other he used to gesture lazily. "You are all welcome. Some tea, perhaps?"

This strange offering surprised Inoue somewhat. It felt utterly alien to sit and drink tea while discussing destroying the human world. Servants in identical white masks circled the table and each ceramic mug was filled with green tea. She put her fingers over the top of the cup and let the steam condense on the tips. Tears stung for a moment behind her eyes, but she took a deep breath through her nose to try and draw them back in. It reminded her so of sitting in the Urahara Store with her friends, laughing or commiserating over battles lost and won. The longing for her own world, for just some hint of something recognisable was making her chest hurt again.

Ulquiorra looked at her, as if waiting for a tear to well up and spill down her cheek, but she held her composure and chewed on her bottom lip. Memories of the steps he had taken to get her to eat were disrupting her thoughts, and his staring so fixatedly at her was not helping her to push those memories back down into the recesses of her mind.

"Now," Aizen blew the steam from the top of his cup and sipped before continuing. "Today we are going to meet our newest recruit," he nodded to Orihime and smiled. She felt dizzy. "Orihime Inoue will be our honoured guest until such a time as her presence is no longer required. I would like you all to make her feel welcome. If she requests something from you – please – by all means provide her with what she needs. She is not a prisoner – she came here of her own free will."

The comment, however accurate, cut deeply. Orihime's eyelids flickered closed and she placed a palm flat against the table top, the smooth and cool surface steadying her. A guest? Her own free will? What choice had she had?

She could have been responsible for the deaths of everyone she knew and cared about, or she could have packed up her life, said her goodbyes and departed forever. There wasn't a minute of any day that passed that she didn't feel the sting abandoning her friends to face the Espada without her. She should have been healing Sado-kun's arm – not Grimmjow's.

"New recruit?" Nnoitra looked at her as though she were something he had just had to wipe off his shoe. "This... girl? This child?"

Aizen smirked, "And?"

"How old are you... pet?"

Orihime wetted her lips with her tongue. They kept getting so dry. In her lap she screwed her right hand into a fist, but it didn't stop it from shaking. "I'm s-sixteen."

"Sixteen what, pet? Speak up!"

She didn't understand the question. "I'm sorry?"

"Centuries?"

"Oh uh, years," she corrected.

"YEARS?"

"Now, now, Nnoitra," Lord Aizen chided him gently. The dark haired espada had placed a hand on the hilt of his scythe and appeared to now be glowering.

"She is a child! What makes her think she is worthy of being here, in the presence of the Espada?"

"Lord Aizen has willed it so, and you should take his word as law." Ulquiorra's voice cut through the air like a blade. "You would do well to remember that, Nnoitra." Condescension. Another of Ulquiorra's most commonly displayed traits. Inoue was getting to know them well.

"Go to HELL." Nnoitra banged his palm down on the table and Orihime jumped and almost knocked over her tea. "You defend her?"

"He always does," Grimmjow interjected. "As you would say, Nnoitra, she's his little pet now." A cat-like grin split wide his face, showing long incisors as the blue haired Espada settled back in his chair, always pleased to find an opportunity to start a fight.

"Aizen-sama," it was the turn of another of the Espada to speak. This time, the one known as Halibel – the only other woman in the room, folded her arms under her bosom, "I too must protest – her powers cannot be so valuable surely that it would be worth the trouble this will cause? What of the plan? The Hougyokou?"

"Who says that Orihime Inoue isn't part of the plan? Do you think you know what my plan is, Halibel? Do you think you know every last detail?"

"No, my Lord, of course n-..."

Nnoitra leant his upper body over the table, bracing himself with his hands and looked Ulquiorra Cifer straight in his great green eyes and said, "Are you fucking her?"

The Espada closed his eyes and smirked. It was almost the only time Inoue had ever seen the corners of his mouth turn upwards. "Ridiculous," was all he said.

Unable to get a rise out of his intended target, Nnoitra turned on Orihime, "You tell me, pet – tell your Uncle Nnoitra – what does Ulquiorra do to you when you're sleeping?"

She felt her heart stop.

"I've seen him out in the corridors at night, lurking outside your room," he said with a mischievous grin that stretched from ear lobe to ear lobe. "What do you think he's doing, eh? Orihime-kun?"

The red-head turned uncertainly to look at her jailer. Ulquiorra narrowed his gaze, not looking at her, but Nnoitra. "You have no idea how stupid you appear right at this moment," he said, letting lids slide closed, and shaking his head like a weary parent whose child had just asked for a paddling pool full of strawberry jelly. "It has been my duty to monitor the woman around the clock – you know this."

"You can't have gotten laid since the dark ages." Grimmjow grinned toothily. "Scary looking guy like yourself probably doesn't have much luck with ladies."

"That'll do." Aizen interrupted. Ulquiorra wished that their ruler looked less amused by the whole thing.

"Wait, so Ulquiorra can have a human whore, while the rest of us have to make do with our Fraccion?" Nnoitra banged his scythe down on the ground so hard the earth shook.

"Nnoitra..." Aizen's tone was verging on dangerous, but Nnoitra was in full flood.

"No – BULLSHIT," he complained loudly, "Don't you think all of us would like moist human girls with huge tits around for our pleasure? Even better than Arrancar don't you think? At least then you can eat when you're finished without the cost of taking them to dinner."

Grimmjow, seeing an opportunity to lay into his fellow Espada without any damage to himself joined in, mocking Ulquiorra's near monotone, "Oh woman – your heart – it moves me," he laughed.

"Let me unleash my zanpakutou! Can you feel my power?" followed Nnoitra, thrusting his groin, causing the two to burst into giggles while Orihime's skin caught fire.

"That is _enough_." The air suddenly felt heavy and Inoue felt her ankles head sinking into her neck, her shoulders, her stomach, her legs and into her feet. She couldn't move as the pressure in her head started to build and build until she thought she was simply going to implode into a hundred thousand tiny pieces.

Orihime slumped perceptibly, but didn't hit the floor. Ulquiorra caught her shoulders as she fell sideways, straining himself under the immense weight of Aizen's monstrous reiatsu to move. Even for a group of incredibly powerful Arrancar, the feel of it was like being locked into a tiny frozen chamber with the door sealed behind you. For the human girl, if she had been nothing but a mere mortal, she would have already been dead.

It ceased as abruptly as it started. Nnoitra, who had literally been forced down into his seat by the pressure, said nothing but sweated profusely, and Grimmjow simply scowled. Only Ulquiorra's very sensitive gaze could pick up the fact that the fingertips of Espada #6 were trembling against the white table.

Orihime came to almost immediately and found herself being propped upright quickly and without much care or reassurance. She leant forward and put her right hand to her temple, still feeling the ceiling sway high above her.

"I have given Ulquiorra the task of safe guarding our little visitor," Aizen grinned like a Cheshire cat while Inoue eyed him from underneath heavy, trembling eyelashes. "She is a member of us – maybe one day, even, an Espada. If she displays any sign of turning traitor however..." he took a long swig and drained the bottom of his cup, "then you may do with – or to – her as you please."

Ulquiorra disliked the hungry stares of the male Espada. Had they no self control at all? No pride? It was disgusting watching them salivate over the human woman, as if it were worth the 2 – perhaps 3 - minutes it would take either of them to achieve orgasm inside her fragile human frame. She was a vessel – true – but a vessel whose purpose was to serve Aizen-sama – not act as some kind of lust-object for their moronic titillation.

He turned slightly to the left to address her, murmuring so softly beneath his breath that no other at the table could hear him, "If you even consider trying to leave this compound then the lock on your door will seem like nothing. I'll bind your hands and feet together so tight you'll be numb to your tiny bones."

Orihime felt taken aback by the seemingly sudden display of aggression. Ulquiorra was not an emotional person – he never even appeared angry. And he wasn't angry now – at least not in any way she recognised. The cuatro Espada had returned to looking directly ahead of himself, but she couldn't help but stare at him, trying to read some kind of intent in his porcelain features. But there was nothing.

Treating her like a member of his army was one thing, but allowing her to hear the meat of their plans was clearly something that Aizen wasn't foolhardy enough to allow. After a few more pleasantries and an update from Grimmjow on the progress that her friends were making back in the real world, they were allowed to leave. Ulquiorra rose quickly and went into a hushed conversation with Aizen that involved a lot of over the shoulder looks in her direction. Orihime got up from her seat, but found herself rounded on by Nnoitra who came sauntering around the table, and dropped his scythe so that the blade split the stone work and stuck out of the ground at a jarring angle.

"Mmm mmm mmm," he purred, rolling his long, pointy tongue out of his mouth and over his lips, the edge of his "5" tattoo coming just into vision before disappearing again. "We're going to have some fun, pet."

"Please... don't," Inoue backed away, curling her fingers into a fist in front of her, her other palm resting on the back of her chair for balance.

"Oh come along now, pet, you don't honestly believe all this bullshit that now you're a member of our team? You can't honestly think you're going to leave Los Noches alive?"

"Aizen... sama," she stammered, "You've been ordered..."

Nnoitra extended two long, slender fingers and caught her just under her chin, pushing her lips closed. "There isn't one Espada under this roof who wouldn't fuck the breath out of you then eat whatever was left over," he whispered, breathily. "I'm going to bury my head in those pretty little titties of yours and chew your heart out of your chest."

"Ul-Ulquiorra... he..."

"He would do exactly the same thing – if Aizen gave him leave to do so. You think just because he walks around with that stoic expression he's never thought about fucking you? You think he doesn't know all the pressure points on your body to make you writhe in agony?" He grinned at her disgust, encouraged by the violence of her reaction, "The Gotei 13 sent a team of shinigami to earth to watch over you. To make sure that this..." he gestured around them, "never happened. Ulquiorra caught up with them one night and brought them back here with the help of his idiotic sidekick, Yammy. He tortured them _for days,_ my pet. I've never met a creature with less pity in his soul than the rotting corpse of a creature who's now supposed to be responsible for your "wellbeing"."

"Please..." tears were starting to stream down Orihime's cheeks, "leave me alone."

"You're going to wish you accepted my offer of a good fuck-ing," he said, annunciating the last word and lifting his eyebrows. "Ulquiorra was born out of darkness and filth – ask him yourself. What he's got planned for your pert, moist little body, I dread to imagine."

"NNOITRA," Aizen was at the door, walking out of it in long, purposeful strides. "Follow me."

Her antagonist rolled his eyes, but said nothing more. He bowed a tiny, mock bow and backed away, slinging his scythe so carelessly over his shoulder that he nearly severed Orihime's neck in the process, forcing her to dodge clumsily and knock into the table. Two tea mugs fell, and one of them rolled off the edge, hit the floor and shattered.

"Crying again?" Ulquiorra walked over, and pushed her hands away from her face to inspect the damage. "You humans are so emotional."

"I don't feel well," she moaned, pulling away, "I'm sorry – I can't..."

"Do NOT apologise to me – all it does is demonstrate every single time how little you've learned and how weak you are. You're wasting my time."

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her, but all the strength in Orihime had gone. It was too much – she couldn't cope with the idea of being preyed on by these beasts – her head was spinning. What had Nnoitra meant when he said that Ulquiorra was born from darkness and filth? Were all Hollow not born the same way? Hadn't he once been a soul as well, living the life of a normal human man? What procession of awful events had led Ulquiorra to become so dead inside?

Scoffing, Ulquiorra was in no mood to continue with her basic human failings. He picked up Inoue without warning and put her over his shoulder, then left the room with her hanging there. She should have fought him, she knew, but for today at least the fight seemed to have left her. Was her fate truly as dire as Nnoitra had made it seem? She had made her bed now – she had chosen to come here. Chosen out of two equally impossible options to come here.

"I'm not a thing," she said quietly, to no one in particular.

"What?" came the cold response.

"I'm not a thing," she repeated. "I'm a person."

A light chuckle was her only reply.


	3. Dirty

Comments: More darkness from the depths of my brain. I may as well take this moment to warn you that things are going to get a lot darker before things get lighter.

I'm posting chapters 3 and 4 together as I wrote them back to back but felt they worked better as two separate sections.

Many thanks for any reviews / favourites so far – it's always wonderful to hear back and know people are still reading

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach or any of its characters.

Ensnared

3. Dirty

Orihime had been sealed away in Las Noches for over two weeks before the realisation that she _stank_.

It wasn't that she normally had poor hygiene – but depression had seeped in and chewed it's way into her heart. She slept, she ate, and she was visited by Ulquiorra normally twice a day, but only so that he could check she had eaten – nothing more. She didn't dare stir outside of her quarters. She feared Nnoitra, far more than pain, far more than death.

She could hear him sometimes, passing up and down the corridor outside her room, either whistling or laughing to himself. _Why was he laughing_? While she supposed that Ulquiorra would not allow anything to befall her, Nnoitra's comments about the taciturn fourth Espada had left her fearful and doubtful of his intentions. He was a Hollow after all. Somewhere underneath that cool facade was a powerful desire to consume human souls. How much restraint was it taking for him – for any of these Arrancar – not to eat her whole?

And so she hadn't left her room – hadn't gone searching for some kind of wash room where she would be able to clean off the grime. It was Ulquiorra who finally noticed it, one day as he approached to look over her shoulder as she ate, to make sure she hid nothing in her napkin. He wrinkled up his nose, "Good God that is disgusting. Woman, I knew that human beings were un-evolved – but I never thought that you would not take care of your own basic hygiene."

Orihime paused in her consumption and put down her fork. She clasped her hands together in her lap under the table. She didn't wish to anger the Espada. Nor did she wish to say anything that would entice him to insult her further. She would need to pick her words carefully.

"I apologise," she said quietly, though she knew it was a mistake to do so. Ulquiorra despised her apologies, and in this case turned up his nose and took several paces away, putting his back to her. "I did not know where I should go in order to wash myself."

"Come with me," he replied coolly, heading towards the door. It opened automatically as he reached it and he turned back to look at her. She hadn't moved. "Would you prefer for me to bring a bowl of hot water here, strip you and scrub you down?"

Orihime rose abruptly and came to the door, wringing her hands together anxiously. She didn't look at Ulquiorra directly, but instead peered out into the corridor past him, looking up and then down the bleak and empty passage. There was no sign of Nnoitra. Or of anybody.

"Follow me."

They turned left out of the room and Orihime focussed hard on trying to remember every turn they took as they passed along it. It was nigh on impossible – there was absolutely nothing that made one corridor appear different than any other – each was lined by either 3 or 4 smaller rooms – non-descript and featureless.

"Are... are we in the dungeon?" she enquired, realising that Ulquiorra had gotten a few paces ahead of her while she eyed every wall and corner closely, looking for some way of navigating herself around the maze of tunnels.

"No, of course not," he said, glancing over his shoulder, but not bothering to turn his head to look at her properly. "You have been given a suite just like any other Arrancar here."

"There are bars on the window," Orihime commented, looking back at him.

He turned his eyes forward again. "Does it bother you?"

"I am not supposed to be a prisoner here," she commented. "And yet my room is like a prison."

"It is your _choice_ to remain all day in your room," he scoffed. "You haven't left it in over two weeks – to your own detriment I might add, as you now _smell_ like trash as well."

"I didn't want... never mind." Orihime looked down at her hands, massaging her fingers nervously – first one hand, then the other.

Ulquiorra didn't pursue the conversation – being disinterested seemed to be his forte. When something did not capture his attention, Orihime had noticed; he would not dwell on it any longer than was absolutely necessary. Did he care that she was terrified to leave her room? Did he know that it was because she was frightened of those hungry gazes all focussed on her as she'd sat in that meeting room and been slowly undressed? She knew from the things she had heard in Soul Society that Aizen cared for no one – and that all people – even his own Espada – were little more than puppets. She was not important to him – she was a tool. What happened to her in the long run would not matter to one such as he.

"We're here," he said, pausing in front of a archway. Orihime was thankful to see this entryway was slightly different than the others. It had a frame made of grey stone – resembling what she would have called granite. It had more of a sheen than traditional granite though. It had a thin layer like a rainbow across the whole surface, as though it had been slickened with oil. She lifted her hand to it and felt the stonework crackle with reiatsu.

"It's enchanted," Ulquiorra said by way of explanation. "Many things here are not what they appear – there is no water in Hueco Mundo – so the room is enchanted to provide basic necessities."

Water or not, Orihime could hear the sound of liquid hitting a hard surface and followed Ulquiorra into the adjoining room.

What greeted her was a vast hall – a hall with an immense raincloud that hung above it. Here by the entry way they had some level of protection from the pummelling rainfall, but other than that there was no space in the room where water wasn't pouring from sky. The water collected and was swirled down the drains in the floor; little tributaries joining a river that swept away dirt and grime and disappeared beneath the bowels of Las Noches.

"Where do I change?" Orihime squeaked, looking around hopefully for some kind of area where she could leave her clothing before she ventured into the torrent.

"There is no changing area – this isn't a spa – it's a washroom. You wash."

"But anyone who comes in will be able to see me."

Ulquiorra gave her a withering look. "And from this you suppose that someone would _want_ to look at your body? Do you believe that it has something to do with your chest? Human vanity. Disgusting."

Orihime was anything but arrogant about her looks. She had never perceived the shape of her body to be beautiful or believed that the size of her chest had helped her at all in life. In fact she doubted she would have even been aware that she had a large chest but for all the comments that she received from everyone – friends, schoolmates and enemies alike. In the past she had always had Kurosaki-kun to protect her - Tatsuki-chan too. If anyone at all had ogled her or made nasty comments they would have quickly been ejected. Now she felt exposed. Ulquiorra – far from making comments about wanting to touch her body – simply degraded it instead. She felt unsure about what was worse, but at least she didn't feel the kind of fear around Ulquiorra that she did around Nnoitra or even Grimmjow. Ulquiorra could kill her – quickly, mercilessly. What the others could do would be much, much worse.

Was that an almost positive thought that she had had about Ulquiorra? She looked up at him as subtly as she could, scuffing her shoe against the damp tiles on the floor. The longer she was here, the more likely she was to start suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. No matter what, she knew she had to keep thinking about Kurosaki-kun, and keep remembering where she had come from and why she was here. To destroy the Hyougoukou – even if it meant sacrificing herself to do so.

"Well, are you going to take all day?" Ulquiorra interrupted her thoughts, and Orihime realised she had been staring at him. With a sigh of reluctance she had to admit to herself that he was strangely pleasing to look at – for all of the evil in him.

Orihime took a big, deep breath and let it out, "I can't," she said, shaking her head. "I'm sorry – I can't with you here – I'm a girl, I need privacy."

"Woman, I have no interest in your naked flesh."

"I want you to look the other way."

"I will not – you are my charge – and while you are resident here at Las Noches, it is my duty to observe you at all times."

The girl drew herself up to her full height and looked the Espada straight in the eye and practically drowned. "You are nothing more than a pervert," she accused, flicking her hair back angrily with a turn of the head. "_Observe me at all times_? Pah – it sounds like something Nnoitra-sama would say."

The green sea narrowed.

"Consider your next words carefully, woman, or they may be your last."

"You can't _do_ anything to me," she replied, though she could feel her throat locking up fearfully, taking some of the power out of her voice. Her heart was fluttering violently like a dying bird. "Aizen-sama would never allow you to touch me or to harm me – you're his servant, you do as he commands – you've said so. You can't touch me."

"You deign to know what my orders are?" Soft, velvety words. "Do you?"

"You. Can't. Touch. Me," she reiterated slowly, her voice now barely above a whisper. Their faces were now no more than six inches apart.

"No," he stared fixedly at her lips, then back at her eyes. "I can't."

There was a brief pull at her dress as Ulquiorra activated his sonido and disappeared so fast that her eyes didn't even register a blur. She looked left and then right, before doing a full 360 degree turn to see whether he was still there. Was he hiding in a corner? No, there were no corners for him to hide in. Was there a chance that he was using sonido to conceal his location? No, she could no longer sense his reiatsu at all.

She suddenly realised that she was completely alone.


	4. Broken Toy

Comments: I initially wrote Broken Toy as one larger chapter – including Chapter 3 – but afterwards decided it was a little long for a single chapter, so I broke it down into two.

It took me a really long time to write this section of the story as there comes a point when writing darker stories where characters become utterly irredeemable if they go too far. And by that I mean there would be no chance of any person – no matter how open-hearted they were – of forgiving them what they had done. After which of course the story becomes unrealistic or just becomes a story about a beaten down woman who loves her abuser no matter what he does to her. That is not what this is – and hopefully it comes across that way.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Bleach.

Ensnared

4. Broken Toy

Orihime bit her bottom lip. Well – she'd gotten what she'd asked for hadn't she? Ulquiorra was gone, she had a place where she could get clean. All the same, the idea of being naked here by herself was unnerving. She started to undress quickly, not even bothering to fold her clothes or place them anywhere – she simply kicked them gently into the corner with one foot, stripping right down until even the Shun Shun Rikka were removed and dropped on top of the pile of clothes.

She tentatively reached out a hand into the pouring water, and droplets began pounding soothingly over her arm. It was hot – gloriously so, and the grime covering the rest of her body suddenly felt like it was smothering her. She stepped out into the storm, treading between gullies where the floor had been worn away by the incessant pressure of the water. She made her way over to the far corner of the room, feeling the safety of having walls on at least two sides of her. This way all she needed to do was to keep looking out into the room. Keep looking out, keep searching for reiatsu, keep alert to the return of Ulquiorra. He'd be back. He had to come back for her.

A spout was dispensing a sweet smelling blue substance periodically. What a strange notion that Arrancar cared about things like shampoo or washing at all. She couldn't imagine Nnoitra with a handful of suds on his head, lathering it in. She allowed herself to smile at the thought – something that she didn't do often. It had been a while since she'd felt that she deserved to smile now. Smiling was something that people with friends did together, and now she didn't have any.

She paused with her hand in front of the metal spout until a short jet of blue hit the palm of her hand at quite high velocity. It smelt amazing – though she couldn't figure out what scents made it up. It did smell floral, but more like a meadow in summer than a particular bouquet. Had the scientist, Szayel played any part in the creation of such a substance? She had heard him speak in meetings about his experiments – none of them seemed to involve flowers and scents though. Most of them were cruel and disgusting.

She rubbed it between her palms and as suspected it rapidly started to lather into millions of tiny shiny bubbles. She blew at the ball of suds and several bubbles separated from the rest, floated a few inches before they were battered to nothingness by the heavy, hot rainfall. Like all pretty things, they did not belong in Hueco Mundo.

Without the need for any further invitation, Orihime hurriedly started covering herself in soap, starting with her shoulders. There was nothing to scrub with, but she did her best using her hands against the skin to work the soap in by rubbing at it roughly, cleaning every little nook and cranny while she had the chance. She wasn't sure if the soap would make good hair shampoo, but with a total lack of anything further she could use, she decided to use it in any case, getting another handful and working it into her scalp.

Just the feel of her massaging fingertips finally relieving her scalp from sweat and grease took a load off her mind. She could feel the tangles coming undone between her fingers, and a silky sheen returning to her auburn locks. She was enjoying it all a little too much though, and let slip a few notes of a hum before a glob of bubbles slipped down her forehead and into her eyes.

She yelped in pain – she had once got soap into her eye about a year ago accidentally, and this pain was far worse – it felt like her poor eyes were on fire. She stood, doing her best to keep from blinking and letting the hot water wash out the soap, but the stinging was searing and she had to keep looking down again and squeezing cleansing tears down her cheeks.

After a minute or more of this, the pain began to subside, and she stepped back to see whether she could now focus on the wall, but instead of empty, steamy air she hit flesh – naked flesh, and shrieked at the top of her lungs. Where had that reiatsu come from? Someone was here.

"Now now, pet – hushhushhush." A large hand was clamped over her mouth and her whole body was pushed into the wall. Her forehead hit the stone and for a second the world spun, her senselessness leaving heropen for Nnoitra Jiruga to force her flat against the smooth stonework.

"Shh... shh... now now - we don't want your guard dog to come running, do we? Mmm... you smell sweet, pet – nice to see that you prettied yourself up for me..."

His long tongue extended and he ran it down the length of neck from ear lobe to shoulder, Orihime desperately clawing her hands against the wall but unable to loose them from beneath her own stomach. Her wrists were screaming in pain from the awkward position, but any attempt to push away from the wall with her own body pushed her buttocks against Nnoitra's groin. He was naked. He was hard, he was naked, and she had nobody to help her.

"Calm down pet, I'm not going to hurt you – not today anyway. I just wanted to have a little play with you, that's all. Open up your legs, pet, daddy wants to feel how _tight_ you are."

"Please don't... please don't..." Orihime whimpered these words into his hand, but they were lost in the thrumming rhythm of the falling water. A knee dug into the back of her leg, applying pressure to push them apart.

"Open up, come on. Come on pet, you have a pussy that's longing for a fucking – doesn't matter how hard you try and hide it." The pressure increased and Inoue felt her foot start to slip on the floor. Her thighs finally parted, but not without cost to Nnoitra's position. His foot slid with hers and Orihime yanked her head right, freeing her lips and heaving in a gulp of air.

"ULQUIORRA!" she shrieked, the piercing sound reverberating around the large echoey chambers like a keen. "HELP ME, SOMEONE!"

Outside the entrance to the bathing hall, Ulquiorra stood patiently with his arms folded, his gaze lowered to the floor, listening to the woman's anguished screaming.

_No. Not yet. Longer._

Her goading words were still ringing in his ears.

Inside, Orihime felt her body suddenly released and she sprung forward. The floor was too smooth - so slippery that it took all her effort not to slip and fall. Only desperation made her sure-footed enough to get halfway across the room, but before she could, another burst of sonido and Nnoitra was in front of her. He caught both of her wrists, holding her still as she struggled violently, kicking at his legs until she caught a toe badly against his kneecap and screamed in pain.

"Well my my – looks like your guard dog isn't coming – he must be out in the living world, pulling apart your little friends piece by piece. That's lucky, isn't it, pet?" He released her wrists and she fell back, twisting as she hit the ground. She whispered as she crawled back on her hands and knees. A pair of hands caught her waist and dragged her back, and she launched herself forward to get away, nails scrabbling against the surface that didn't offer so much as a handhold.

"Aw now now – come on – you have such a pretty little pussy... mmm," he effortlessly pulled her back and she felt her backside connect with his stomach, the hardness of him between her cheeks.

"Please please don't... don't do this to me, I want to go home – I WANT TO GO HOME PLEASE," she sobbed in misery, "KUROSAKI-KUN – SAVE ME PLEASE... KUROSAKI-KUN!"

"Just the tip, pet – _just the tip_ – he was on his knees now behind her. She could feel the end of his cock as he positioned himself behind her, the bulbous head pressing against her folds.

She closed her eyes and thought of Ichigo. She thought of Ishida, Chad, Rukia, Renji and all of her wonderful friends. _Minna-san... I'm so sorry..._

"That will do."

She caught her breath as her waist was released and she fell forward on to her hands, first with her rear in the air, then immediately to the side as she pulled herself into the foetal position. She could feel it – he was here... Ulquiorra had returned.

"Ah – Ulquiorra..." Nnoitra rose to his feet and turned to face the fourth Espada, hands on hips.

"I should have known that I could not leave the girl alone a moment without DEGENERATE FILTH like you coming to attack her. Know your place, scum. When Aizen hears of this you may find that Tousen removes something more valuable to you than an _arm_."

"Oh come come, we don't need to tell Aizen about this – I've warmed her up nicely – you're welcome to finish the job. You've thought about it, right?" Nnoitra approached the fourth and stood behind him, both of them with their eyes planted on the young woman bared before them. "A sweet little girl longing to suck hard and long on your..."

"What I've thought about is not your concern," Ulquiorra returned icily. "You should leave this place before I execute you."

Nnoitra grinned as only he could – showing off more teeth than it could be possible for any humanoid creature to possess and looked down at Orihime's terrified eyes. "You notice that he didn't say I was _lying_?"

And then he was gone, leaving Inoue alone with her jailer, who didn't pass comment or say anything at all. He just stood and stared at her while she cried pitifully. "Come on, get up," he said eventually. When she didn't reply, he said, "You wanted to be alone didn't you? Honestly, there is no pleasing you."

"You let him... you let him..." Orihime couldn't finish the sentence. The words were too horrible, she couldn't bring herself to utter them. "You let him touch me."

"Woman, I assented when you informed me that due to my orders I am unable to touch you. This is entirely the truth."

"You could have stopped him."

"You are fine," Ulquiorra murmured sadistically. "Aren't you? Except for a very superficial foot injury you are quite well – and any healing that is needed you can get from your ability."

Orihime was stunned into silence. There was so much more to this than _physical_ pain. So much for losing her first kiss to Ulquiorra, she had nearly lost something far more precious.

She wasn't safe. She wasn't safe, she needed to get away, needed to _get out_. Ulquiorra wasn't going to protect her – he'd practically stood back and watched. Oh those eyes, how she loathed the idea of that image – of _this_ image of her wet and naked seared forever into his vision, into his _mind_.

"At last – you have nothing to say," he added cruelly. "So Nnoitra has his uses after all."

"Why are you so awful?" Orihime pressed her hands to her cheeks, which were damp with salty tears now. She rose to her feet, passing Ulquiorra to find her clothes. They had been replaced with new, clean ones – and a towel. When had that even happened? Had someone else seen her naked? It was starting not to matter anymore – apparently _every_one around here had seen her naked.

"You have so little perspective about life if you think _this_ is awful," Ulquiorra said to her back. "I've seen things that would turn your stomach til you vomited. Where I came from..." he froze, catching himself.

What had he been about to divulge? And to this child? What was he thinking?

She turned, bundled up in the warm, comfortable towel, it's softness finally starting to quell her shuddering. "What?"

"Nothing," he snapped abruptly. "We'll return to your room. Your behaviour has distracted me from my work."

It was true; it had. He was supposed to spend the afternoon researching further the histories of Urahara and Yoruichi – finding out what level of risk they posed to Aizen. After their appearance on earth during Yammy's battle with Ichigo they had proven to be something of a _nuisance_ if not a threat. However instead he'd spent the morning following the woman around, making sure she was clean – waiting outside and wasting his time just to prove a point.

Why was he trying to prove a point to _trash_ in the first place?

Enough.

Instantaneously, they were back at her room and Orihime's bare feet touched down on the floor as Ulquiorra put her down. "I will return at dinner time. I have more important things to do than deal with you."

He vanished after that, leaving a curious, shaking Inoue in his wake with just one thought on her mind.

She had to escape somehow. She had to get away _tonight_. She couldn't stay here another day. She couldn't allow her friends to risk their lives breaking in to rescue her.

Orihime looked down at the table where still sat her meal from earlier – the one Ulquiorra had interrupted. Her knife still sat beside the plate, glinting faintly in the pale moonlight.


	5. Cut & Run

Comments: I can only really apologise for the fact it's been over a year since I last updated this story. Sometimes I think you just go through periods when aspects of your life overwhelm you to the point that thinking of fresh inspiration to drive something that you've started forward wanes and you start to get distracted.

I'm really pleased to come back to this story. I'm a little rusty and it's been a long time since I watched the series so I'm needing to reacquaint myself with the characters but I'll get back into my stride soon. This chapter is a little short but it makes more sense to end it here. When you read chapter 6 this should all fall into place.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Bleach.

Ensnared

5. Cut & Run

Orihime had figured out the "what" of what she wanted to do, but the "how" was proving altogether more challenging. Her pride in tatters from the events of the shower room, it took several hours before she managed to peel herself out of her despondent malaise - the misery suckering her downwards and taking her mind to places it hadn't dared to visit since the death of her brother all those years before.

Right at that moment, going to be with him in Heaven seemed a far more welcoming idea than trying to keep going here. She knew that Ulquiorra's attempts to break her spirits so far were merely warm up exercises compared to what he was capable of. He didn't want to just hurt her, he wanted to shame her into submission. He wanted to make her want to choose to bow down to him and Aizen. Imagining the manifold punishments that he could inflict on her and her psyche sent an involuntary shudder through her body that reduced her to having to push a few escaping tears from her cheeks.

But suicide was not an option. Her nature wouldn't allow it - her belief in Kurosaki wouldn't allow her to sink so low. She might have to dig far deeper than ever before to find the cheer that had helped her through her trials, but she would find it - the same way Kurosaki had found the strength to defeat Kuchiki Byakuya. Strength he hadn't even known he had.

That didn't mean however that she was going to sit quietly in this cell for the next months and allow Aizen's plans to take shape. The longer she sat compliant in this cell, letting him use her powers to repair his army of Espada, the harder she was making things for her friends to defeat them. This could not be allowed to continue. She had to try and leave this place - on her own two feet, or in a wooden box.

With a new found sense of purpose she set about what was in front of her. She had precious little to help her; the clothes on her back, the remains of the last meal that she'd eaten here, a tiny cubicle lavatory with nothing useful in it. She didn't envision herself creating a powerful weapon out of toilet paper, even on her best day, so how could she pull off anything that was going to help her get past the Cuatro Espada?

It eventually dawned on her that such a weapon did not exist - if she was to get past Ulquiorra she would need to out-fox him - not overpower him. He had a sharp mind to be sure - but so did she. Somehow she needed to channel her inner Uryuu.

She missed her bespectacled school friend terribly. If there was someone who could be relieved upon to think around corners - it was Ishida; even Kurosaki knew that, much as it sometimes frustrated him. It wasn't always possible to go in through the front door with guns blazing - sometimes something a bit more subtle was required. And right now Inoue really needed that something to come to her - preferably before Ulquiorra did.

Barefoot she paced the cold floor back and forth for over an hour. When she was a little girl she'd paced when waiting for her brother to return if he went out for shopping. Strange habit though it was she found it passed the time and allowed her to calm herself down if she was worrying about him.

The Shun Shun Rikka were her greatest weapon - this was clear - but firing Tsubaki at Ulquiorra was not an option - as he'd be destroyed in an instant as he had been before by Yami. She doubted she could fire him with the determination or the pin point accuracy it would take to hit Ulquiorra in the eye - and besides - from what she'd seen of the abilities of those great green orbs, she doubted that it would so much as slow him down if one of them were to be destroyed.

Then there was her ability to heal - but she couldn't see what good that would do. She couldn't heal Ulquiorra into submission - nor could she think of any way in which healing might help her to escape at this moment. She thought for a horrible moment about cutting off parts of her own body to be able to squeeze through the bars of her window and then rebuilding them with her Soten Kisshun - but grimaced at the notion. She just didn't have the stomach for those kinds of extremes.

That left her with their last ability - Santen Kesshun. Yami had treated the shield she created before him like glass - it hadn't held for anything more than an instant, and Ulquiorra was far stronger. She idly pondered whether there was anyway for her to boost the powers of the Shun Shun Rikka; but if it was possible then there wasn't anything at her disposal here that she could use to do this.

It was all starting to feel rather hopeless. Tired from her pacing and starting to feel weepy once again, she flopped down upon the small grey couch in her quarters and put her face into her hands.

"And how is our young visitor doing?" a voice purred over the silence. Orihime jumped about six inches into the air, clutching her chest where her heart hammered away like an injured bird.

"Who's there?"

"They call me Espada número Ocho," he said with a toothy grin, a lock of fuschia coloured hair falling in front of a large and translucent blue eye. "Szayelaporro Granz. Pleased to meet you."

Orihime knew of Szayel more from reputation than from having spent time in his company. Most of the Espada were feared by the lesser members of Hueco Mundo; Nnoitra for his violence and sexual appetite, Ulquiorra for his abrupt executions and heartless cruelty - Szayel was feared for treating the other residents like his own personal guinea pigs, no matter what their rank. He bore no great loyalty to Aizen so far as Inoue could tell; he merely tolerated Aizen's presence and felt some fealty to him for giving him this form. As this also meant that Szayel was not afraid of Aizen in the same way that Nnoitra was; he was dangerous in a whole different manner.

She had a feeling without knowing why, and even despite the fact that Szayel was not even close to her at that moment that she was in more danger than ever. She cleared her throat gently and swallowed uncomfortably.

"Hello sir."

"Sir?" the Espada purred back at her, his voice warm and throaty and all-too inviting. "Nice to know you have a little respect for your superiors. He swept into the room, a long white lab cost trailing behind him as he came to a stop by the arm of the sofa and regarded her. "I like that in a girl."

Orihime moved further down the couch away from him and he planted himself on the arm rest. "Oh don't worry lovely girl - I lost all interest in the physical pleasures some years ago when I discovered that science could be so much more... Rewarding." Inoue did not know to what he was referring - neither did she want to. The secret contraptions he had brewed up in his lab could bring about pleasure or pain, she reasoned. Maybe even both.

Why was everyone here so twisted beyond reason?

"I'm sorry sir - I didn't mean to offend you," she said quietly. "But might I ask - what have you come here for? May I be of some assistance to you? You do not appear to be wounded..."

"Do not believe," he said, clicking his tongue impatiently, "that all of the Espada are prone to the same weaknesses as our dear friend Mr Grimmjow. I personally do not need to be rejuvenated in any case. No - my interest in you is born more from... Idle curiosity," he said, gesturing to the general room around them. "How are you enjoying your stay with us?"

Orihime didn't know how to answer. It was the first time since she'd arrived there that someone had asked her how she was feeling. Certainly Ulquiorra didn't care how she was - as long as she ate her food. She felt her lip start to quiver from the pressure of needing to hold in her emotions.

"Girl, why are you weeping?" The beautiful pink haired man on her chair shifted to sit beside her and placed a cool hand on a shoulder and then ran it over her back. It felt sickening though Orihime had no idea why this should be. It was a comforting gesture on its surface but beneath she felt nauseated as though a snake had just wrapped itself around her neck, or someone had just walked over her grave.

"It's so... It's so hard," she said, not daring to let the floodgates open. There was too much misery she'd squashed down inside for her to allow it to escape now. And besides; whoever this person really was and whatever his motive - he was still her enemy. She wouldn't allow them to know she was weakening. "I miss my friends," she said. "I miss my home."

"Your home? Ah yes - the earth," he mused. "Strange planet - Earth. Funny that the humans should be so convinced that their planet is the only one in the universe supporting intelligent life. Arrogant, really."

The auburn haired girl lowered her head to allow her bangs to cover her face, giving her a little more privacy to allow huge wet tears to roll down her cheeks and drip off her chin into her lap. "I know," she admitted. "But I do miss them so much."

Szayel pulled back his arm and curved a finger under her hair, pulling it back and pushing the tresses behind her ear. He then cupped her damp chin in his hand and pulled it until her eyes could look nowhere else but up into his. "What if I told you," he whispered hauntingly, "that I can help you leave this place. That I could help you see your friends again?"

Her heart leap up into her mouth, leaving a burning sensation in her throat as it did so. "A... Trick?" she murmured - but he shook his head.

"No, little girl, I'd be very happy to help you leave this place and never return." He pressed his mouth against the shell of her ear, his breath tickling her cheek as he spoke, and she felt the touch of something cold and sharp against her leg through the cloth of her robe. "I just need a little something from you first."


	6. Master Manipulator

Comments: Chapter 5 was a little short, so to make up for it – Chapter 6 is a little long. Thanks so much to everyone who's taken the time to review and for your comments and PMs – it's lovely to know lots of people are still reading after my break in writing!

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Bleach.

Ensnared

6. Master Manipulator

Ulquiorra's guard was up the moment he re-entered the woman's apartment, several hours later. By now it was late evening – not that it was possible to tell. The moon hung high in the pitch black of the eternal night sky as it always did – but never had he known the woman's room to sit in such stillness and darkness. Hadn't she asked for candles the first night she'd been here, unable to sleep as she feared the night and the sounds emanating from the bowels of Los Noches? They were extinguished now – sitting in their brackets – the smell of smoke and their meagre warmth long since dissipated.

He could sense her energy signature from where she'd sat, stood and paced the floor. It hung in the back of his mind like a warm, golden mist. He flexed his neck uncomfortably at the sensation. "Woman, where are you?"

It would be nothing for him to flush her out of hiding, but it was so tedious, and so unnecessary when he knew deep down she was so pliable and willing to please. Qualities that Nnoitra had said – numerous times – were his favourite things about her. If Ulquiorra had possessed such a thing as a conscience or a sense of guilt he might have felt bad for what he'd done to her that afternoon. After all; human women feared such things above all others, didn't they? The unwanted touch of a man.

As disgusting as Grimmjow's comments had been in their meeting those weeks ago, the fact of the matter still stood. Ulquiorra had only distant memories of the last time he'd lain with a woman. Occasionally he had dreams that made him confident that he had lain with a considerable number in his human life – but that held no interest to him now. Nnoitra, on the other hand, was insatiable, and frequently would lie with a multitude of lesser Fraccion in the course of a single night. Sometimes he merely fucked them, other times he fucked them and killed them. Other times…

Well, those were stories. And they didn't interest Ulquiorra.

Yes, letting him near the woman had been foolhardy. Aizen's reaction if anything untoward had happened to her would have been destructive, possibly even fatal to himself and Nnoitra at the very least. As it was, Aizen was unlikely to be unhappy with him for keeping her in line – but if she were to harm herself as a result of her distress.

Human beings were just so fragile that way.

Nevertheless it filled him with a sense of uneasiness, as he realised he had been standing there in thought for over a minute and the woman had not materialised. If she had done something to hurt herself it would be problematic. Nothing Szayel couldn't fix, but still. Why did she have to make such a nuisance of herself?

He strolled purposefully toward the small changing cube where she was permitted to alter her appearance for sleeping, suspecting that he'd find her slumped on the ground and slowing bleeding out her life force. He drew back the grey curtain, his eyes scouring the small contained area - but there was no sign of her.

And if she wasn't here, and wasn't in the apartment…

He pursed his lips together and glanced back towards the door. He had always believed that the fear of Nnoitra on the prowl would be enough to keep her contained to her cage – but then she had always believed that he would prevent Nnoitra from touching her. That trust, however insubstantial, was now in pieces.

"Idiotic, imbecilic woman," he cursed quietly, under his breath. She had not been in danger before, but he could not protect her if he couldn't find her, and right now for whatever reason he couldn't sense her reiatsu at all. It would take time to find her on foot. He didn't have time.

He closed his great green eyes, then opened them again, and slowly he used one hand to peel back the lid, scooping his fingers into the socket to relieve it of his large eyeball. He held it in his hand for a second, conveying his thoughts and essence into it before releasing it and watching it sail off through the air, darting around the doorway and into the corridor.

He could cover twice as much ground this way.

Orihime was a girl on the run. Bare-foot and breathless, she flew around another corner, the quiet and rhythmic patter of her feet the only sound she could hear above the thunder in her chest. Where the Hell was she going? This was totally mad – she had no way to get back to the real world, and even if she did, the Espada would be on her tail. She couldn't care less if they tore her limb from limb, but what about her friends? What about Kurosaki-kun?

Overwhelmed with misery, she came to a halt at another identical corner, coughing and panting desperately for air. Hot tears streaked down her reddened cheeks and she slumped pathetically to the floor.

"I can't… I can't – Kurosaki-kun – I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry…"

She should have gone with the knife – it seemed such an attractive option sat there on the table.

Up until now she'd just gone along with everything – happily abiding to her capture, unable to do anything about it, staying in that depressing little cube despite knowing that the door was never sealed, that she could leave whenever she wanted to. What on earth would Kurosaki-kun say if he came and found her there, when he was out there fighting for her freedom? She couldn't bear that disappointed look – the same look he wore when he lost a battle, the same resentment twisted and aimed at her. Kurosaki-kun wouldn't sit idle and wait to be rescued! He would leave his cell and he would fight – without hesitation and without fear of death.

Orihime pressed her back to the wall, pushing herself upright again, her feet sliding against the white panels that covered the floor until she had managed to scramble upright, a new sense of purpose filling her belly with warmth.

She had been running a while – and though it was huge she knew Hueco Mundo could not stretch on indefinitely – sooner or later she would reach the perimeter, and after that she just needed to follow the circumference until she found some kind of tunnel to take her outside. The Espada travelled by garganta. Orihime didn't know where they came from, but maybe there was just a small chance that she could find one that had been left open, or hide and leap through just as it closed!

All of these plans were hair-brained, she knew that much – but she had to try doing something – staying here until Ulquiorra's whimsy led her to be either eaten or worse was no longer an option.

She ran on and on until her energy started to leave her. The pounding of her feet on the floor, after some considerable time, started to send painful shots up through her heels, her ankles and into her knees. The soles of her feet started to sear, pulsing with heat, and finally her breathing reached a point where she could scarcely even heave in the air, and she had to stop again before she threw up.

Swallowing hard, she pushed back down the burning taste at the back of her throat, resting a hand on the wall, hanging her head and letting her auburn tresses fall down past her face, framing her view of the floor as she watch droplets of sweat bead on her nose before tumbling and splattering the tile.

Where was the door? Where was the exit? She'd been running now for a long time – Szayel had said she would have only an hour before the effects of the serum he'd given her wore off. Soon Ulquiorra would sense her again, and once he did it was game over.

Deflated and broken, Orihime stifled a sob and leant back against the wall, and was suddenly aware of a falling sensation. Before she could stop herself, a squeal burst through her lips and she tumbled on to her backside. She leapt up quickly, landing on her two feet, flicking her head back and forth to take in the space in which she now found herself.

After a sea of white walls, Orihime found herself rubbing her eyes as she took in the silver-grey room around her. Well, room was a strong word for what was essentially just a very long corridor. She looked back up at the wall, unable to see where on earth she could have come through it. She ran her pale finger tips across the surface, tapping it with her nails. How had she even found this room? Where she had previously come through the wall was now, apparently, sealed. Faced with few additional options, she walked down the hallway slowly, pace by pace until she reached the rooms' one and only feature – a small podium. Above the podium floating in midair was a curious item – a small clear thing with many surfaces, with a small cobalt blue orb in its heart.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" purred Aizen, who stood by the doorway behind her as if he'd just materialised out of nothing. Inoue skittered away from the podium, her chest beating hard. She had found the Hogyoku. She might never get another chance like this, a chance to destroy it – but there was Aizen right there. Was it worth a brief and ill-advised attempt to get rid of it once and for all? Would her attack even reach it before she was dust?

She was trying to look at Aizen but her eyes kept darting back to the luminescent artefact. "Ah yes!" she said, coughing to clear her throat when the words came out unclear and strangled, "Yes – it's very pretty."

"Nothing compared to the beauty of a pretty young girl," he said seductively, tipping his head so that a lock of his hair shifted out of place and curved around to meet the tip of his nose. He gazed out at her from intense, chocolatey eyes – "But then – what is?"

Inoue's stomach turned and she found herself taking a step away – wondering absently whether there was any male creature in this compound that didn't seem keenly aware of her womanly curves. Even as she shifted, the material caught against her left hip, clinging elegantly and accentuating her shape. Ever since puberty she had felt as though her body had rebelled against being anything except alluring. Men didn't just look, they stopped and stared. Women didn't just glance at her enviously, they glowered and hated her.

"You're very kind," was all she said, hanging her head and wishing that her auburn bangs were so long they reached the floor and could hide the birth of rouge erupting on her cheeks. "I'm very sorry – I did not mean to come here. I should return to my room."

"Ah yes – your room," he said, elongating the vowel sound and pressing his lips together into a smirk, "You seem rather a long way from your quarters, Miss Inoue – in fact I'm a little surprised you've wandered so far. Los Noches isn't safe for a young girl. You present," he murmured, letting his gums peel back from his ivory teeth, "too much of a temptation."

"Temptation," she repeated dumbly, as he sauntered a step closer.

"To eat. I feed them well but… some of them suffer from some terrible habits. Snacking, for example. Between meals."

No threat had probably ever sounded as sensual as Aizen could make it sound. As if the consumption of her human soul were the single most arousing thing that he could imagine. Orihime swallowed slowly, and his eyes feasted on her neck and then on her mouth as she nervously licked her lower lip.

Over Aizen's shoulder, something green and shimmering came into view and blinked. Orihime's mouth fell open and she felt the air around her start to move. Her mouth curved into an "O" as she realised what was about to happen. _Ulquiorra…_

The air was compressed out of her chest as she hit the wall. It was a hard collision and she caught her tooth on her lip as her head made contact with the surface, a smear of blood bursting from the swollen flesh. Her arm was pushed up behind her back and held in place, just on the verge of what she could only describe as agonising. If she'd had the breath left in her body, she'd have screamed for it to stop.

"Master."

A great and thunderous laugh boomed from Aizen's throat in the small, narrow room. "Oh really now, Ulquiorra."

Orihime found her voice and a high pitched wail split the air. Then another.

"I think you may be hurting her arm," Aizen commented drily.

"The Hogyoku – it is not damaged?" Ulquiorra's voice sounded very distant. Orihime was in so much pain she feared she'd be sick. The room was starting to spin.

"No thanks to my watchdog! No it is still in one piece." Aizen was still smiling. "Ulquiorra – release the girl."

"You should execute her," the cold words of the Espada made Inoue feel weak. "Execute her now – she is of no use to you – she is worthless trash. Kill her now and save us all the grievance of needing to see to her."

"If you are not up to the task, I know Nnoitra if very keen to _see to her_ as you put it."

"Aizen-sama…"

"I do not appreciate my orders being ignored, Ulquiorra. Didn't I mention releasing her, or do you just _like_ having something warm pressed against you?"

Orihime's round, warm buttocks were pressed against his groin. He grimaced in disgust and extracted himself immediately, while Inoue collapsed against the wall and put her face in her trembling hands.

"No, master."

"The reason I gave you command over Miss Inoue was because you – Ulquiorra – are the one creature here I can trust not to mishandle the goods. If I thought that even you were having… _thoughts_…"

"I would _never_ have such thoughts about such a weak, disgusting child," the Espada spat before he was able to contain his reaction. He calmed immediately, his brow furrowing. Aizen could tell how offended he was at the implication – and he was glad of it. There was not a creature in Los Noches who wouldn't have enjoyed pushing the Cuatro Espada's buttons. Especially when it was so clear that his reaction was so passionate. Too passionate. Suspiciously passionate.

"I want you," Aizen said, raising his hand before the tirade could continue, "not to leave Miss Inoue's side as long as she is in Los Noches," he said. "I have told you before she is a precious guest. What would have happened if any harm had come to her? Do you think," he said, his voice suddenly taking on dangerous undertones, "that you'd still be standing here now?"

Ulquiorra narrowed his eyes. "My work… is on the surface. I cannot stay…"

"I'm worried," interrupted Aizen, "that today has set a dangerous precedent for you failing to follow my instructions. First – the woman I have told you to keep a safeguard over escapes her cell and runs amuck in Los Noches, _then_ she finds the Hogyoku – an item that I'm sure her previous friends would be very grateful if she were to destroy – _then_ you refuse to release her when I tell you to – and _finally_ you think you have something _better_ to do than to follow my orders?"

"No… Master. Aizen-sama – I will follow your orders." He could see out of the corner of his eye, Orihime peering up at him, her cheeks damp with tears. Inside his pocket, he curled his hand into a fist.

"Good. Excellent." Aizen was all smiles and joviality again. "Best to take her back to her room then – I can arrange for a cot for you to be placed in her quarters – Ulquiorra – unless of course you're comfortable sharing the…"

"A cot will be perfect. You are too kind, Master."

"Oh and Ulquiorra – you might wish to check in on Szayel – I observe – from Miss Inoue's most recent excursion – that he might be seeking to keep himself occupied by using her as a guinea pig for some of his more creative tests."

Szayel… he might have known that scum would be involved in this. Indeed; it had his stink all over it – Nnoitra could never come up with a scheme so intelligent.

"I will… discuss this with him," he murmured quietly.

"Good good. On your way then."

Ulquiorra hoisted Inoue over his shoulder and vanished, and before she had time to catch her breath she was being deposited like a sack of potatoes on the bed in her room.

"Remain here – I will be back shortly," Ulquiorra said, without turning to look at her. "I have urgent business to attend to. I think I need not say – woman – that if you stir so much as a toe outside of this room while I am gone I will break every one of those tiny human fingers of yours, have you heal yourself, then do it _over and over_ again until the message sinks in. Do we understand each other?"

He was gone without waiting for her response. He had a certain pink-haired trouble making Espada to take care of.


End file.
